An Interview with Howard Davis

Saturday, 29 September 2007 15:32

The following is an interview conducted with EH designer Howard Davis via email in 1998. Howard is still active in the effects community today, working with EH on reissues as well as offering effects repair. You can contact him HERE.

Tell me about your early work prior to EH

I was a scientific prodigy, fixing TVs and building working electric motors from bell wire and metal cut from food cans when I was 10 years old. My family was poor, and I had neither the financial resources nor the encouragement I needed. Finally, after years of frustrating technician jobs which didn’t allow the expression of my creative talents, I got into Cooper Union, and earned my EE degree Summa Cum Laude. About a month after graduation in 1976 I started with Electro-Harmonix, and loved almost every minute of my 5 years with the company.

How did you come to work at EH?

It was the right place for me. I was a non-conforming, countercultural type of person with total disdain for the usual repressive corporate environment. I had loved Rock n’ Roll since I was 14 (1958), and became aware that the audio technology then in use was primitive compared to what it could be. Long before delay chips existed, I fabricated an acoustic delay using a hose-like tube with a speaker at one end and a mike at the other. Sounded weird due to the resonances, but it did produce what we now call a “slap echo.” EH was a technological and musical playground for me, and being paid well to have productive, creative FUN is my kind of gig!

What years did you work at EH?

1976 to 1981.

What was a typical day at the EH company like?

There was occasional stress, but the work was challenging and satisfying. There was plenty of freedom to be yourself; Mike knew that what counts is that a person is productive, not that he or she dresses conservatively and cuts their hair short. Productivity at EH was rewarded, not taken for granted. And we had real fun – during breaks we would go to the soundroom and jam. Mike did his best to treat his staff well, unlike typical work environments where people are just cogs in the heart-attack machine.

What’s the best product you came up with?

I’d say the most popular is the Memory Man. I didn’t design the first delay stompbox with this name, but in 1977 I re-engineered it with such a substantial improvment in performance that it just took off – it was hard for the company to keep up with the demand. I’m also proud of my Deluxe Octave Multiplexer. The hardest part of that design was the fundamental extractor – the circuitry that locks in on the fundamental, or basic pitch, of the note being played. Before my work the existing products of this type had a tendency to “yodel,” to jump up an octave then back again. I came up with what may still be the best analog fundamental extractor circuitry ever used in a stompbox. Once you have a good fundamental extractor, synthesizing the suboctaves is easy. I also like my Ambitron, but that was designed for the audiophile market, not really in EH’s primary area of interest.

Did you specifically design the Ambitron for converting mono jazz records to stereo?

At the time I invented the Ambitron some records in my collection, which is mostly Rock, were monaural. I even had some old 78s. Some stereo recordings of that time were not realistically mixed; there was often a “hole-in-the-middle,” with instruments on the right and left without much in or near the center except perhaps the vocals and bass. I wanted a way of generating realistic pseudo-stereo from the mono sources, and to enhance the stereo effect by synthesizing more ambient acoustics without actually changing the room or speakers. Thus was born the Ambitron.

What incident at the company sticks in your mind the most?

One day for some reason our power got cut off. My lab didn’t have any windows, and of course without power not much would work. I did though. I got a few candles, put them on my desk, and did what paperwork I could.

What are some of the best moments you can remember at EH?

One day Jack Bruce walked into my lab room, asking to hear some new effects. I think I showed him the latest Memory Man and the Talking Pedal.

I remember reading about this. The Talking Pedal would be an excellent candidate for reissue. The weird pot would be the only problem.

It would indeed. Mike shies away from using expensive or custom-made parts or parts without backup sources. I designed the Talking Pedal using data on human speech I got from my brother, a professor of audiology at SUNY Plattsburgh. The tapers of the dual pot sections were based on that data and the characteristics of the filters they controlled.

What finally made you leave?

As I remember, the company had been put under siege by an unscrupulous labor union seeking to organize the factory workers. Towards the end of 1980 the business had declined for this and other reasons. As my responsibilities were technical and I didn’t care very much for politics or corporate culture, I tried to stay away from the management woes, but they affected everyone. I left in early 1981.

What did you do after leaving EH?

I became a free-lance writer. I always loved writing, and have published many articles in technical and hobby publications, sometimes with a free subscription my only remuneration. I had the time, so I wrote a book. I had some experience designing and installing alarm systems, so I wrote “PREVENT BURGLARY – An Aggressive Approach to Total Home Security.” Published by Prentice-Hall, it got good reviews, and I expected to make a mint. I was interviewed on dozens of radio talk shows to promote it. Prentice-Hall was bought out by Simon & Shyster just as the book was to be marketed, and they botched the marketing royally, with almost no books in the stores just when demand was hot. I made a little on it though, and even wrote two more books, but I was discouraged by the low pay to work ratio for writing in general. Recently I self-published a book of poetry. Nice hobby, but without a relative in publishing, chances of doing well financially are poor no matter how good you are.

What are you doing today?

Living! If you haven’t found the key to happiness by my age, you never will. I’ve been into several self-betterment practices such as Avatar, and I’ve done wonders with what I’ve experienced and learned. I create my own life, and feel about as free and happy as one can within the constraints of this crazy world. I would never work full-time for someone else again, not because there are no good people to work for, but because of the unacceptable restrictions on personal freedom such employment imposes. I now do engineering as a self-employed consultant, and custom mod and repair work.

What would you consider your “crowning achievement”?

That’s a hard question to answer. A happy life is a succession of achievements, and for the best, the satisfaction you feel within is greater than any financial reward. I’d say designing electronics as an independent consultant is my current crowning achievement. I’ve greatly upgraded my lab and information resources, and welcome every creative opportunity that comes my way.

If you could do it over again, what would you do different?

I wish I had become more knowledgable in law and management; if I had, I might have helped to prevent the company’s 1981 downfall. Management just isn’t my thing – too many wheely-dealy problems and not enough creativity involved. But you can’t keep good people down; EH is back, and I’m glad to be part of that.

DISCLAIMER: Howard Davis does not work for The EH Man, nor is he in any way associated with The EH Man or RonSound except as a fellow admirer of Electro-Harmonix products. Contact Howard at the website URL given at the beginning of this article.

Julia Truchsess: Electronic Drum Pioneer of EH

Tuesday, 27 October 2009 20:04

Recently I’ve had the pleasure of corresponding with Julia Truchsess, who worked at EH in the late 70’s to the early 80’s. She has been very gracious in providing an extensive biography and a list of products she designed for EH. Without further ado, here’s her story:

Julia Truchsess

I moved to New York City from Wisconsin in the Fall of 1976 at the age of twenty, with a band called The Invisible Man in which I played bass guitar, to seek fame and fortune as a rock star. We rented a top-floor 2,500 square-foot loft on West 25th St, with skylights and panoramic views of the Empire State Building, for $400 a month – those were the days! The Patty Smith Band rehearsed two floors below us. Eventually I needed a job, and our drummer had left the New York Times help wanted classifieds open to the page for auto parts, in which he had experience. Immediately preceding that section was an ad for “Audio Technician”. Having been an electronics hobbyist since I was about eight years old, with a particular interest in audio and music, the ad caught my eye – plus the address was only three blocks away!

The employer was of course E-H, and although I had no professional experience to speak of, Mike took a chance on me and I was put to work as Irwin Kornfeld’s assistant, tuning the rather finicky analog delay devices in Memory Mans as they came off the assembly line. After a few weeks of that drudgery I’d proven my abilities to the extent that Mike let me pursue a rather ambitious project of my own designing a guitar synthesizer. I was given an office and the result, about a year later, was the EH-8000, the most complex product the company had at the time ever produced. I’m very proud of that device to this day, some thirty+ years later. Its tracking was faster than any guitar synth on the market and many that have followed. It was used by Steve Howe of Yes and Colin White of Metro and Holly and the Italians. It was entirely analog and used a boatload of op-amps that unfortunately required occasional tweaking of trimpots to stay in tune. A huge contribution to the development of the guitar synthesizer came from David Cockerell: an amazing yet simple circuit that could extract an almost pure sine wave from the extremely complex waveforms produced by a guitar. It’s one of the cleverest circuits I’ve ever encountered in my career. An unfortunate manufacturing disaster occurred with the EH-8000 either before or after soldering, the boards were dunked in a degreaser or flux remover or something that removed the protective anti-corrosion material on the contacts of all 20-plus slide switches on the product’s front panel. The switches became dodgy as a result, and returns were frequent.

About this time The Invisible Man were becoming discouraged with our lack of success in the New York club scene. Punk and New Wave were happening but we were a bombastic prog-rock trio in the vein of King Crimson and Cream, with songs running 10 – 20 minutes. We decided that the UK might provide more receptive audiences and in mid-1978 I told Mike I was leaving the company to move to London. His response was “Don’t quit, go over and open a distribution and service center for me.” Which I did. I secured office and warehouse space, and hired a repair technician and manager. I left my New York loft in the hands of the late George Kaufman, another E-H employee and close friend who’d recently returned from setting up a distribution and repair center in Toronto.

While in England I continued to design new products. While effects are fun, I’ve always loved creating new instruments, particularly electronic percussion devices. The song “Ring My Bell” and its use of the Synare electronic drum had blown open a whole new market and I looked for a way for E-H to get into it. Mike had always been reluctant to invest in new tooling for products, so one design constraint was that anything I came up with had to go into the traditional E-H sheet-metal boxes. And of course, it had to be inexpensive. I ended up using a crystal microphone glued to the underside of the sheet metal, with a piece of leather glued onto the top as a playing surface. Add a simple swept oscillator circuit and the Space Drum was born. The device became a platform for a number of follow-on products: the Super Space Drum and the Rolling Thunder, designed by Howard Davis, and the Crashpad and Sequencer Drum designed by myself. I really loved the Crashpad: it used a ridiculously inexpensive filter circuit made up only of discrete transistors and diodes that was capable of producing some really rich and “dirty” sounds when the Q was cranked up. You could put white noise into it or if you turned the Q up high enough it would turn into an oscillator. It had an external audio input and a flexible sweep controller and was a really versatile device.

In 1980 I came back from England, but I found myself morally unable to displace George Kaufman from the loft, and I didn’t want to share it with him and his brother David, who rehearsed there with their band The Nails. Mike and I had become good friends outside of work and he often invited me to join him on fishing trips on his boat in Montauk. While I’d been in England he’d purchased the former headquarters and manufacturing facility of the Otis Elevator Company on Manhattan’s west side, a mammoth building that took up a full city block north-south. Mike had grand plans for his top designers there and since I had nowhere to live on my return from the UK, I was given the keys to the building and one of the Otis VP’s hardwood-paneled offices as a bedroom. Cockerell had the President’s office I think 🙂 I have only dim memories of that brief period but it was very special and magical, with a distinctly unreal feel to it.

Shortly thereafter E-H became overextended financially and Mike had to sell the Otis building. Japanese and domestic competitors were eating away at his market with much more reliable products. I found a loft on 20th street in what is now the trendy “Flatiron District”, around the corner from the church that became the famous Limelight disco, and a few blocks from the factory on 23rd St. I lived and worked there; Mike paid the rent.

Now that we had a line of percussion sound generators, I figured we needed a controller to hook them all up to. E-H was having a good run with the DRM-16 drum machine but I wanted something a bit more open-ended and creative. I came up with the Clockworks “rhythm synthesizer”. It fit into the standard sheet-metal box, and used analog circuitry that acted “quasi-digitally” in that it could divide the frequency of a master beat clock to produce half notes, quarter notes, etc., but since it was analog you could also get it right on the borderline between divisors so that it would sometimes divide by three, and sometimes four, for example. This produced some amazing polyrhythmic patterns, to say the least. The Clockworks didn’t have any sound generation internally: you used it to trigger CrashPads and Sequencer Drums. You could daisy-chain or cross-trigger any number of them, you could sum any of their outputs with simple junction boxes or Y-cords, and with two or three Clockworks, a few Crashpads and a couple of Sequencer Drums you could produce some absolutely astounding stuff. I own a Sequencer Drum but have been unable to locate either a Clockworks or Crashpad and would love to do so someday.

Mike had opened the 48th St, E-H Hall of Science next to Manny’s Music, and was very big into LED art and jewelry at the time. Bob Bednarz had come up with the Domino Theory, an objet d’art consisting of a grid of LEDs that responded to sound in a translucent red tube. I expanded on the concept (and packaging) with the Random Element, a gizmo that would “talk back” to you in electronic beeps and boops whenever you triggered it with sound. I also contributed what became the name for the entire line of blinky products: “Art Lumo” (or was it “Art Lumeau”?). (ed. note: Art Lumo is correct)

E-H’s fortunes continued to decline and in 1981 Mike told me he couldn’t pay the rent on my 20th St. studio any longer, but that I could take over the lease on his loft on 31st St. where Bednarz had been living and working. I moved there and after a week or so of cleaning out the unbelievable amount of junk Bob had accumulated, fixed it up into a nice living and working space. I continued to work on more electronic art concepts but Mike wanted me to come to the factory and do production work, which didn’t appeal to me much. We parted on good terms and I found work the next day with a company around the corner that developed toys and consumer electronics, which became my field for the next 23 years.

Mike and I continued to see each other often socially. In 1985 I moved to City Island in the Bronx, where I got my own boat and could take him fishing for a change. In 1986 I invented and patented a wah-wah controlled by a light sensor held between one’s teeth: the amount of light hitting the sensor depended on how open your lips were, so you could actually make your instrument go “wah” by making the shape of a “wah” sound with your mouth. Mike loved it and dubbed it the “Soul Kiss”. I produced them in my bedroom office/lab and Mike marketed them under the New Sensor brand. I think it may have been New Sensor’s first product. Unfortunately the product was not understood by the trade and didn’t receive any promotion or push by the stores, and as a result it didn’t sell. The AIDS epidemic didn’t help either, even though we provided disposable covers for the mouthpiece…

In addition to being a very dear friend, Mike has been mentor, confidant, father figure, inspiration, and patron saint to me. He probably doesn’t remember giving me a photo of himself in his twenties, holding a mahi-mahi he’d caught, but I long ago framed that black-and-white photocopy and it’s been displayed in a place of honor in every office I’ve had since.

Product Designs

  • EH-8000 Guitar Synthesizer ’77-78
  • Space Drum – ’79
  • Crashpad – ’80
  • Sequencer Drum – ’80
  • Clockworks – ’80
  • Random Element – ’80?(ed. note: likely an unreleased product)
  • Super Space Drum II -’81 (I’m not sure this was ever produced)
  • Soul Kiss

Links

Julia’s Homepage

Pragmatic Designs

Bill Berko – the first EH designer

I’m writing this after just finding out that Bill Berko passed away on Jan. 19, 2010.  Bill was an early collaborator with Mike Matthews and was asked to be a partner in the fledgling EH company.

Bill Berko was the designer of the early Foxey Lady pedal built by Aul Instruments for EH in 1967 and was also the designer of the legenday Axis fuzz, the first pedal to bear the EH name as well as a Guild-branded version again called the Foxey Lady.  I had the pleasure of speaking to Bill a few years ago by phone and unfortunately, was never able to find time to record his stories of life in the early days of EH.  One story I do remember he told me was that his repair shop was in the same building with Dan Armstrong.  Bill would play a guitar through amplifiers he repaired to test them out but unfortunately, his guitar skills weren’t very good.  Dan Armstrong finally got tired of listening to him and offered to teach him how to play guitar so he wouldn’t be driven crazy.

William Berko, 70, also known as “Bill,” “Billy B,” or simply “Berko,” died on Jan. 19, 2010, after suffering complications from surgery.  Bill had a rich, full and colorful life. He counted Rahway, N.J., Hollywood, Fla., and lastly, Las Vegas, Nev., as home. After serving in the U.S. Army, 82nd Airborne, Bill came home to Rahway, where he met his first love, Mickie, at Roma’s Pizza. During their life together, they had five sons, four who survive. During this time, Bill learned electronics and soon would open his own business, ABCO Sound, in New York City, repairing audio equipment for some of the biggest names in the music industry. Bill attended and photographed the Woodstock Music Festival, and many of his photos of Woodstock can be found online.